


to breathe in time

by Fiction_Over_Fact



Series: Steadfast [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Founding of Konoha, Gen, Pre-Slash, Uchiha Izuna Lives, Warring States Period (Naruto)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21549118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiction_Over_Fact/pseuds/Fiction_Over_Fact
Summary: Tobirama had never precisely wanted a soulmate but, now that he had one, he found himself somewhat...annoyed that Izuna was being kept from him.He was even less sure what to do with that feeling than he was what he would do with a soulmate to begin with.(Izuna's feelings on the subject are, if anything, evenmorecomplicated.)
Relationships: Senju Hashirama & Senju Tobirama & Senju Touka, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Izuna, Uchiha Izuna & Uchiha Madara
Series: Steadfast [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1163249
Comments: 28
Kudos: 565





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ... _heyyyy_. Idk if anyone cares about this series anymore but yeah, I had this part started for So Long but neither Tobirama and Izuna would cooperate POV wise so this got extremely stalled, whoops. But it's here now!

Izuna wasn’t there for the first peace talk between the Senju and Uchiha.

In a personal sense, Tobirama had been glad for it.

He was still unsure what to think of the Sympathy between them at the time, past its possible usefulness in motivating their clans toward peace. The delay of their first meeting after the bond was, no matter what the stories about soulmates craving each others’ presence after first forming a bond said, more than welcome.

Of course, there wasn’t much that was typical about his and Izuna’s...relationship.

Politically, he understood why Izuna not being present displeased the elders to such an extent and, if they hadn’t been so annoying about it during council meetings, he would have sympathized. After all, the Uchiha heir’s absence announced a lack of even the _pretense_ good faith in the peace talks on the Uchiha’s side. No matter that Hashirama didn’t seem to notice or care, it didn’t set a good precedent for their negotiations.

For all their individual strength, he and Izuna were weak points in their clans now. It grated that the Senju had been made to expose theirs without the Uchiha doing the same.

It also made the first peace talk reek of an assassination attempt.

Even _Hashirama_ had been nervous, amidst his excitement and refusal to consider for more than five minutes at a time that his ‘old friend’ would betray him in such a way. Tobirama had much less interest in staking his life on Uchiha Madara’s ‘loyalty’ but had resolved not to take action unless the Uchiha did first.

Madara had glared at Tobirama nearly every minute of the seven hours of the meeting but, to Hashirama’s great joy, he never attacked.

Since no one had died, bled or even screamed too loudly, they set another meeting for a week’s time.

Izuna still did not appear at this second discussion. Madara, perhaps to make up for a few missed opportunities in the previous meeting, glared even more. When they returned to their own compound the elders grumbled over both matters.

Hashirama remained blissfully oblivious to it all.

Sometimes—rarely, but _sometimes—_ Tobirama was envious of his brother’s nature. It certainly seemed far more relaxing to be Hashirama at any given moment than Tobirama had ever managed to feel; save for the few times he’d allowed himself to sprawl in the main garden and do nothing but read and nap.

The third peace meeting was more of the same save for the fact that, between laying out blueprints for district planning and discussing what other relatively nearby clans might wish to join the village in the future, Tobirama found his eyes wandering to the place in the trees the Uchiha had come from.

Wondering.

Still, when Izuna hadn’t shown by the fourth peace talk, even Hashirama had grown suspicious of his continued absence.

Asking Madara, while the most obvious solution, proved useless. The Uchiha head only grumbled something about his brother’s health and recovery then glared over Hashirama’s shoulder at Tobirama.

The effect of the glare, which Tobirama had never cared about to begin with and had grown quite used to by that point, was greatly lessened by the way Madara had to stand on his toes to see over Hashirama's shoulder. The subsequent cooing (Hashirama) and amused snorting (he and Touka) lead to enough screaming (Madara) that Tobirama was well and truly surprised the war didn't restart that afternoon.

Regardless of that, however, he was...affected by the continued lack of Izuna’s presence, though he couldn’t quite describe how.

He wasn’t sad or bereft—the bond, for all its effects, did not _create_ emotional attachment between people. Other than his newfound disinterest in killing the man—based more on the consequences of the action itself than any ‘feeling’ instilled in him by the bond—Tobirama felt for Izuna exactly as he always had.

...almost.

Now, mixed with the distant respect of another warrior and the wariness of an old enemy, there was _curiosity_.

And Tobirama had never been much good at resisting that.

  
  


“You would know if he’d died, right?” Hashirama asks the evening they return from the fifth peace talk, as he dangles his bare feet off the edge of the roof. He’d kicked his shoes off as soon as they’d made it to the head house and complained about how much his feet hurt as they'd collected dinner, walked through the garden and climbed onto the roof. Tobirama’s head aches from the day’s discussions. Hashirama’s lack of volume control does him no favors. “The Sympathy lets you know somehow, _right_?”

The desperation in his voice is both familiar and unnecessary.

On his other side, Touka snorts and reaches across Tobirama’s lap, snatching one of Hashirama’s neglected gyoza from his plate.

He whines. They both ignore it.

“For such a sap, you sure don’t know much about soulmates,” she teases, mouth half-full. Tobirama’s nose scrunches up, very slightly. In retaliation, Touka drops her jaw wide open and rolls her eyes when he edges as far away from her as he can without getting up. She mutters something under her breath that sounds like ‘ _fussy’_ before turning her attention back to Hashirama. “They're _bonded_ , of course he’d know whether Uchiha was dead or not.”

Hashirama hums around his own mouthful of food. He, more afraid of his brother than Touka was capable of being, swallows before speaking.

“So _is_ he dead?”

Tobirama sighs. “No, he is not.”

As if he wouldn’t have _told_ Hashirama if something as important to their peace talks as Izuna dying had happened.

(And, unless Izuna had died within the three hours since them leaving the meeting, Hashirama would certainly know by now. Madara leaping over the table and going for Tobirama’s throat would’ve been rather hard to miss.)

“I wonder if there’s something wrong with him still,” Touka muses, plucking the bottle of sake from its position wedged between Tobirama’s knees to draw a long swig. “Or maybe Madara just isn’t letting him out of the house.”

“But why would he do that?” Hashirama asks, somewhere between a pout and a demand as he gestures wildly. Another gyoza falls from the loose hold of his chopsticks as he flails. Touka shoves the bottle into Tobirama’s hands and dives for it, smirking triumphantly at him when she catches it in her own chopsticks.

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t bother hiding the slight smile her actions bring to his face.

Hashirama misses the interaction entirely, staring mournfully out at the horizon in the direction of the Uchiha’s lands as he is. “We’re so close to our dream! He _has_ to know that not bringing Izuna undermines the legitimacy of the negotiations to our elders. Why would he sabotage us like this?”

“I _did_ almost kill Izuna a month ago,” Tobirama points out dryly, watching Touka finish her off the gyoza and then snatch the last one off Hashirama’s plate.

His brother, busy brooding, notices nothing.

“Madara is obviously still angry about that, enough so that he doesn’t care that it makes the situation even more...delicate.”

“But I healed Izuna!” Hashirama protests, “And we know that you two are bondmates now. Surely Madara must know that you’re no longer a threat to his brother.”

Touka hums doubtfully at that statement, spoken with such confidence. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

Hashirama frowns reprovingly at her. “That’s not something to joke about-” he stumbles over his own words when he catches sight of Tobirama’s own raised eyebrow and dubious expression.

He glares. “No.” The scolding is firm, like he’s a troublesome dog to be kept out of the garbage. Tobirama might’ve taken offense if he wasn’t more than familiar with that tone of voice.

As it is, he shrugs. “I would _prefer_ not to kill him,” he allows.

It’s not even a lie.

Killing Izuna would be, quite literally, suicide. He has no interest in dying without due cause or necessary purpose. Besides which, the man’s life was integral to the coming peace between the Senju and Uchiha. Even if Tobirama _had_ wanted to kill Izuna that would’ve been enough to dissuade him from doing so, unless a situation arose where there was no other option. Preserving his brother’s peace was far more important than his own feelings, especially with them being theoretical in this case.

Hashirama, rather predictably, doesn’t find this as reassuring as he’d intended it to be.

“You will _not_ kill your bondmate,” he says, gravely serious in the way he so seldom is. _You will not kill your bondmate and yourself._ The words remain unspoken but the weight of them hangs heavy in his eyes.

Tobirama turns away rather than face his brother, eyeing the shine of the last dredges of sunlight on distant walls of their compound. “If I do not need to kill him, I will not.”

And, no matter how Hashirama pushes and needles, he says nothing else on the matter for the rest of the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments on the first chapter guys!<3 I've been too tired to respond but I absolutely read and appreciate all of them!

As a son to the head family of a rather prosperous clan—for all that they’d been at war for far longer than he’d been alive—Izuna was and was not used to getting what he wanted.

The life of a ninja wasn’t pleasant—frivolities had been stripped from him early, so much so that it didn’t take long for him to forget to miss them entirely. But, as far as general desires went growing up— _his_ favorite food for dinner, _he_ got to look at the jutsu scroll first, _his_ turn to practice a new technique—it was not inaccurate to say that Izuna had been spoiled; even now Madara tended to be rather...doting, when Izuna wasn’t going out of his way to annoy him.

So his current predicament is. Odd.

“No.”

“Madara.”

“No.”

“ _Madara_.”

“No.”

Izuna seethes and folds his arms over his chest, tucking his hands under his arms. It’s partially the sheer exasperation of dealing with his brother in this sort of mood but, mostly, an effort to restrain himself. He won’t pull Madara’s hair, no matter how much he deserves it.

He _won’t_.

“If you won’t let me go then at least tell me _why_.”

Madara looks up from his desk just long enough to aim an extremely dour look at him.

“No.”

...he _might_ pull the bastard’s hair after all. He really does deserve it.

Izuna scowls, leaning across the desk. “ _Brother_. I listened to you for the first meeting—I stayed home and I healed; but I am your _second_ , I am your _heir_. You can’t just lock me up in the compound and keep me from negotiations forever.”

Madara finally gives up the pretense that he’s actually doing his paperwork, dropping his pen and looking up with a glare. “And why _not_?”

“Because if you don’t give me any good reasons for me to stay here for the next meeting I will go regardless.”

Madara’s eyes narrow even farther. “And telling me this so far ahead of the meeting just means that I’ll arrange for you to have more guards on you while I’m gone. A stupid mistake.”

Izuna barks out a laugh. “I am already mostly healed brother,” Madara snorts but he keeps talking—it _is_ true. Mostly. “-in another week I’ll be more than ready to escape any guards you set on me. Besides, think of what message that sends about the peace talks. What will the people say when they see that their clanhead lacks such faith in the Senju that he won’t even allow his brother to attend the negotiations?”

“You want reasons? Fine.” Madara pointedly raises a finger. “It’s dangerous—you’re still injured and I am not taking you near the man that almost killed you before you’re properly healed.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m _fine_ though ‘dara, don’t you trust me?”

Madara cocks an eyebrow, reaching across the desk to prod at the fresh knot of scar tissue hidden under Izuna’s shirt where, not all that long ago, his soulmate had punctured his lung and almost killed him.

He ducks back out of reach. “Okay, yes, I’m _m_ _ostly_ fine,” he amends. “Fine as long as you stop trying to re-injure me.” Madara snorts and raises another finger.

“Even if Tobirama doesn’t try to kill you-”

“Which he won’t since he _saved my life_ last time he tried.”

Madara ignores him.

 _Asshole_ , Izuna thinks venomously, attempting to glare a hole in the side of his brother’s (obviously empty) head.

“-there’s still the rest of the Senju, who might decide that killing you is worth sacrificing their own clan’s heir.”

This time it’s Izuna’s turn to frown. “You actually trust their intentions so little?” He’d always thought Madara believed more in peace than that. “Why hold the talks then, if you have so little faith in them working?”

Madara sighs. “I trust _Hashirama_ ,” he states, with such surety Izuna fights the urge to grimace. “I trust _his_ intentions. What I don’t trust is his clan or his brother—with time I believe that they’ll see how much better peace is for both our clans, how much stronger and safer we’ll be working together. But for now I think it’s best not to tempt them to action, which your presence as an injured party might do.”

Izuna scowls. He’d been prepared for Madara to simply be being over protective—the fact that he has a vaguely decent reason for Izuna not to attend the meetings is unexpected. Also annoying.

He’s not done either.

“There is also the possibility,” Madara says, looking pained, “that some of our own kinsmen would try to do the same. I doubt it, as I trust those I’m bringing to the peace talks, but betrayal is never expected. If they attack, I could protect you-” _kill our cousins, kill our friends_ “-but if the problem can be solved by waiting, by letting them calm down and see how well peace could work...” Madara shrugs, lips quirking up ruefully. “Then you can wait.”

Izuna winces. “Fuck, you’re paranoid these days.”

Madara’s face goes painfully dry. “Yes. I wonder why that is.” Izuna winces again.

“Okay, I might deserve that.”

Madara snorts. “ _Might_? Sure, why not.” He sighs though, the energy his annoyance had given him bleeding out as he rubs at the bridge of his nose. He raises another finger, slower than the others, his voice low. “I am not allowing you near Tobirama until I can be sure that you won’t... try anything.”

Izuna can’t help but snicker. “I may not like that he’s my soulmate, ‘dara, but attacking him would be counterproductive. Especially with this,” he looks down, poking gently at his healing wound, hissing a little when he makes contact.

When he looks back up, Madara’s face could’ve been carved from stone.

“I’m not worried that you’ll attack _him_.”

And—stupidly it takes him a second to realize the implications of that. If he wasn’t worried about Izuna attacking Tobirama then who—and Izuna freezes, a rush of intense emotion cutting off any words he’d planned on saying. He can’t tell what it is—anger or sadness or grief or shock. But there is so _much_ of it that it makes his hands tremble.

“I would not _kill myself_ , brother.” He spits, falling down into a chair when his legs start to give. “Not for this, not for _him_.”

Madara’s doubtful look makes it very clear that he doesn’t believe a word of it. And Izuna-

It’s the truth, he’s certain that it is.

For all that he hadn’t wanted to be soulmates with Tobirama, that he would’ve gladly let them both die if he’d been the one to realize the Sympathy between them out on the battlefield, that he wouldn’t be here to have this argument if it had been Tobirama bleeding out and taking him along—that would have been _dying_ , not killing himself.

It seemed very important, suddenly, the distinction between the two.

While the result was roughly the same the two had felt very different within his own mind but—with Madara in front of him, here and now, staring at him with the same eyes Izuna sees every day in the mirror—he was lost to his own reasoning. What _was_ the difference, between dying and letting himself die? If there was one, what did it even _matter_?

If it had been Madara—if _he_ had said what Izuna had said—

He wouldn’t let his brother near the Senju either.

Not for something as worthless as curiosity or as unnecessary as an easier path to peace or as meaningless as a soulmate that he did not yet _know_ , did not yet _love_ , that he didn’t yet know if he even ever could. Madara was worth more than that to him—and he, Izuna realizes, with all the subtly and speed of a lightning strike, _he_ was worth more than that to Madara.

If there was even the smallest, thinnest _shred_ of a chance that Izuna could not only be taken from him but that Izuna would _leave_ him, would walk away and never come back—of _course_ he wouldn’t let him attend the meetings and be that close to Tobirama. It was amazing his brother hadn’t hit him for saying that, saying that he would’ve rather died, willingly and pointlessly and proudly, than stayed with him.

Maybe Madara’s bedside manner was better than he’d thought.

Izuna leans forward, settling his head in his hands and fighting off the urge to shiver when a warm hand closes around his shoulder. Madara, knelt on the ground before him, pulls Izuna in, burying his face in his brother’s neck.

“I _will_ let you go,” he promises, face pressed into Izuna’s hair, voice pained but resolved. “Just. Wait for a while, please?” It’s a simple question but the way he asks it is far from simple, desperate and on the edge of begging, as if Izuna would tell him no, as if Izuna wouldn’t wait _forever_ if his brother asked it of him.

  
  


In the end, he waits for five weeks.

After a while it itches and grates, but his willingness to wait slowly evens out the lines by Madara’s eyes that he’s still too young for and lightens the weight that presses on his brother’s shoulders so heavily during the day, so Izuna bears it. And, at the sixth peace meeting, when he approaches alongside his brother and Senju Tobirama actually willingly _meets his eyes…_

Perhaps it _was_ best to wait after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the Senju: *fairly assuming Madara doesn't want Izuna near Tobirama bc he's afraid Tobirama will hurt him*
> 
> Madara, fully aware of how Rabid his brother can be (because it's genetic): *somewhat fairly assuming he needs to keep Izuna away from Tobirama so _Izuna_ won't hurt _Izuna_ *
> 
>   
> Hopefully that was coherent enough? this chapter was legit gonna be playful-ish bickering for the most part but then I realized that Madara would absolutely Not be over Izuna's confession about being willing to let himself die if it meant killing Tobirama and that he really, really wanted to talk about that, so it got away from me. 
> 
> Lastly, this is probably either the last part in the series or I'll maybe write a timeskip fic with actual established IzuTobi in it? we'll see. (also, no timeline on when that might happen if I decide to do so; could be next month, could be next October, could be three years from now. the brain wants what it wants)

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme know if you liked it, or if you see any especially grievous typos, that whole shebang!


End file.
